Careless
by wolfteam000
Summary: She was the rich and beautiful heiress; an uptown girl. He was the handsome but poor mechanic; the downtown boy. Their first encounter was down to fate, but fate is rarely kind to star-crossed lovers.
1. Out of the Blue

**Out of the Blue**

The summer sun blazed overhead, scorching the tarmac of the driveway. Even though Jellal was in the shade of the garage, the blistering heat was still insufferable. Trees appeared to wilt under the sun's furious glare and the still air was stifling to the point that it was almost hard to breathe because the air just seemed to refuse to move into his lungs. His shirt was completely drenched and it clung to him uncomfortably, the sweat thick and sticky against his skin.

Grunting, he slid out from beneath the car and sat up on his automotive creeper. Stretching out lazily, feeling his joints and his back crack with a few satisfactory clicks, he stood up, throwing his gloves and wrench onto the ground. A calloused hand swept back the blue locks plastered to his forehead and soon, his shirt joined the rest of his tools on the floor. Jellal groaned audibly as the cool air from a nearby fan curled around his bare skin lazily, granting him minimal relief, but relief nonetheless.

Dragging a hand across his face, he ambled over towards the small fridge. The welcoming blast of chill elicited another satisfied purr from the man as he grabbed two cans of beer.

"Heads up man!"

Laxus looked up and caught the sailing can easily. He waved in thanks. "How's yours coming along?"

Jellal took a long drag from his can. "Fixed the piston and the sparking plug. Working on the floorboard right now. That piece of junk's just falling apart."

"Come on, it's Dragion we're talking about. He drives like a maniac."

"Good business for us," he answered with a grin.

A loud honking drew the two men's attention. Laxus jerked his head in the direction of the noise and Jellal drained his beer, crushing the can in his hand and tossing it into the trash as he made his way towards the driveway.

He let out a loud wolf whistle and called out to the blond. "Who gives a damn about that Ford man, look at this!"

The most gorgeous Bentley was pulling into the driveway. It was probably a new customer since Jellal didn't recognise the license plate. He approached the car and a uniformed man stepped out from behind the wheel. He could see the faint outline of a well-dressed woman in the back seat of the car.

Interesting. Whoever owned the car was rich, considering the car model and the fact that he or she could afford a chauffeur. It wasn't often such classy people stopped by this neighbourhood.

"How can I help you, sir?" He asked.

"Fill up the gas tank please."

"Sure thing."

Jellal grabbed the gas pump and started filling up the gas tank. He looked up briefly and did a double take at the sight of beautiful brown eyes staring back at him. They were wide, full of innocence and he couldn't look away even for a moment. Her eyes were swimming with warmth, melting into a chocolate brown as he gazed into those gorgeous orbs.

She was the first to break eye contact, looking away shyly; a soft flush on her cheeks. His head snapped downwards, hands fumbling with the gas pump. He vaguely registered the other man asking about the price and him answering. Money was pressed into his hands and in the blink of an eye, the car had sped off, leaving him in the dust, feeling much hotter than before as a burning feeling unfurled in his chest.

"Bro," Laxus called out, "who was that?"

Jellal looked completely lost, head still spinning with questions. What had just happened? Who was she? Where was she from?

Would he see her again?

"I…don't know," he shouted back. "I only remember the license plate."

That was a lie, of course. He remembered much more than just the license plate.

Jellal inhaled deeply, slowly.

It didn't matter. He wouldn't see her again. Her family wasn't a regular of the garage and even if they were, it was not befitting a lady of the house to come down to this neighbourhood.

"Get me another beer, will ya!" Jellal turned around, the world blurring into an unmistakable crimson for the briefest of moments, and he slumped back onto the creeper before sliding under the car with his wrench.

He had no time to dwell on unrealistic hopes. There was work to be done after all.

* * *

><p>Erza Scarlet was bored.<p>

Being heiress to one of the country's largest and wealthiest corporations, she had been groomed to be the perfect lady and successor ever since birth. She supposed that she was fortunate to have been born into great wealth, having everything one could ever dream of; money, designer clothes, lavish parties; the list went on and on.

But it was a boring life, a controlled life where she had to fit the picture of being a perfect lady. It was a tiring life, having to constantly keep up with the facades deemed socially acceptable by those in her social class. The slithering lies, the pretenses; this was not the life she wanted. She was in many ways trapped in this golden cage called 'life' and she had no way out.

"Miss, I'm afraid we'll have to take a short detour to the nearest gas station. We've run out of gas."

The voice startled her out of her thoughts. "It's alright. Go ahead, Loke."

The car took a sharp turn into a neighbourhood she did not recognise or know. The pearly white houses faded away in the background and soon, she was surrounded by a dull mass of brown and grey blocks. Old neon signs flickered sporadically and the barking of unseen dogs echoed around the area. Trash littered the streets but bare footed children ran around without a care in the world, skipping nimbly among the garbage as they chased a beaten up ball that had probably never seen better days. Strange men peered out from dark alleyways while groups of young men sauntered around, trying their best to appear aloof yet cocky at the same time.

It was all so new, so surreal to her and Erza found the whole ordeal a bit intimidating but strangely fascinating simultaneously.

The car stopped at a small garage and she watched as burly young men bustled around, slipping between and around numerous vehicles. There were cars of all colours and sizes, some raised off of the ground so that the mechanics could work underneath it, some with a mechanic's hands deep within its engines with the car hood opened while some were being polished till it gleamed like a mirror under the sun.

Her chauffeur stepped out momentarily and as he opened the door, Erza could smell the scent of grease lingering in the air. She could see a man coming towards her car out of the corner of her eye. He was clad in nothing but torn, faded jeans and black boots and the sweat covering his muscular torso shimmered under the harsh rays, highlighting his well defined abdomen. His blue hair was tousled messily and black grease was smeared across his skin in numerous patches, but his most distinctive feature was the maroon face tattoo running vertically across his right eye.

He was so different from the supercilious men of her social class. They were rich and well educated, well groomed with an air of superiority around them. He, on the other hand, was rough and unrefined but there was a certain alluring mysterious aura that surrounded him.

The mechanic hurried over with a gas pump and as he waited for the gas tank to fill up, she sneaked a glance out the window at him.

He was very handsome and Erza found herself unable to tear her gaze away from his face. The man looked up at the exact moment and their eyes met. It was only a fleeting glance but it seemed like everything slowed down at that exact moment. His hazel eyes were bright, kind. She looked away quickly with a gasp, the blood pounding in her ears.

She could hear him wrestle around with the gas pump and after a moment, Loke slipped back into the car and they were on their way once more.

Turning around for one last glimpse, Erza saw the man staring after them with the most peculiar expression on his face.

"Loke."

"Yes, Miss?"

"Do you come here often?"

"No, Miss. The Master sends the cars to the high end garage on the Upper East side for repairs."

There was a minute of silence before Erza spoke up again.

"Loke, is my Alfa Romeo fixed yet?"

* * *

><p>Natsu Dragion clutched his head, eyes screwed up as he shook his head.<p>

"But I have a race tomorrow! I need the car!"

Jellal wiped his hands on a small towel. "Come on Dragion, you trashed the car completely. Normally it takes at least 10 days to fix this thing up. I'm doing it in 4."

"Maybe I should just take it to Exceeds Garage next time round."

Jellal smirked when he heard Laxus bark out a harsh laugh behind him.

"If you'll settle for second best, then sure," Laxus snapped his fingers, "be our guest."

Natsu let out an exasperated wail.

Jellal held up his hands. "Look Dragion, skip tomorrow's race. I'll fix this baby up so good you're gonna to win the next 5 no sweat, yeah?"

"Ok, ok," Natsu conceded and trooped out of the shop dejectedly.

"So modest," Laxus said, "you know he's gonna win the next 10."

The two men laughed.

"Sabertooth ain't got nothing on them."

"And Edolas ain't got nothing on Fairy Tail."

They slapped hands, broad grins on both their faces.

Edolas Garage was the official garage for the Sabertooth racing team whereas Fairy Tail had their very own automobile repair shop. The two teams constantly raced each other for reasons long forgotten, although the rivalry still remained and increased with each coming year. Currently, Fairy Tail held the upper hand, with much of it owing to their mechanics. In fact, Fairy Tail's garage was the best in the city but the rich never used them because they were located down in the poorer districts. The garages were legitimate businesses although the racing was illegal. Not that anyone cared. They were the downtown boys. And nobody gave a damn about them.

* * *

><p>"Sorry, but we're closed for the day," Jellal said.<p>

A hand snaked around his waist. "Really now?"

"Ultear!"

The raven smiled coyly. "Miss me?"

Jellal kissed her lightly on the lips. "Do you even have to ask?"

She let out a contented sigh at his answer, fingers running up and down his sides. He shivered under their cool touch – a stark contrast to the reaction he had experienced when the redhead had appeared, one that did not escape his notice.

The sudden shrill of the telephone pierced through the air.

Jellal disentangled himself from her embrace. "Let me just answer that real quick."

He picked up the receiver. "Fairy Tail Garage, how may I be of service?"

"May I please speak to the person in charge?"

The voice was familiar but Jellal couldn't quite place a finger on it. "Speaking."

"My name is Loke and I am calling on behalf of the Scarlet family."

Jellal nearly dropped the phone in surprise.

The Scarlet family was one of the richest and most prominent families in the country. They had built up the family fortune during the Second World War through the production of steel, weapons and armour. It was inconceivable that they would want to contact Fairy Tail for a job.

"Is this a joke?" His voice hardened, a hint of steel slipping into his tone.

The speaker crackled as the man replied stiffly. "I assure you this is not a joke, sir. I stopped by earlier today with the Lady to refill on gas."

The man was indeed telling the truth but all the same, he couldn't quite believe how it was all happening.

"We were hoping that you could send your best mechanic to the Scarlet residence tomorrow to repair a car," Loke continued.

Jellal could only catch snippets of the conversation as only one thing was in his mind.

He would actually get to see her again.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

I am a new(?) Jerza author, be kind to me please hurr.

Was watching Billy Joel's Uptown Girl MV and wanted to write this. So here we go. It's set in the 1960s and both Edolas and Earthland characters will appear. Ironically, my chosen song for the overall theme in this story is actually Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey (DH Orchestral The Great Gatsby version). You'll understand when the angst kicks in.

Careless can mean many different things. It's up to you to interpret what it really means by the end of the story. I hope you'll stay for this wild rollercoaster ride.


	2. Driving Red

**Driving Red**

Jellal tossed the bag of tools onto the seat next to him. He took out a packet of cigarettes from his breast pocket and extracted one from within its confines. It hung loosely from between his lips as he dug into his pockets. Finding nothing in them, he started patting himself down.

"There we go," he mumbled to himself when he finally found his lighter.

He lit the cigarette and took a long drag. The musky scent of smoke filled the car as the grey smoke curled and unfurled around his head lazily, drifting and dissipating into oblivion.

Smoking was a habit he had picked up back when he still raced for Fairy Tail. The stress of work, the allure of a 'bad boy' image; they had all contributed towards the decision to start. In many ways, smoking was like racing – it was addictive.

At that time, it had also seemed like a perfect way to rebel against the scorn others held for him. They looked down upon him because he was dirt poor. He wasn't one of them; he was different. And it suited him just fine. Everything he did was just another way to distance himself from those uptown, to emphasise how _different _he was; racing, smoking, drinking cheap liquor – to him, life was just a game, with the rich on one side and the poor on the other.

He twisted the key in the ignition, feeling the rundown truck roar into life with a few sputters.

"I'm gonna head out," he called out, poking his head out through the window. "You're on your own today, Laxus!"

The blond shouted something inaudible in response and stuck up his middle finger with a smirk. Jellal reciprocated with equal amusement and slowly pulled out into the road.

The soft lulling of pattering raindrops morphed into a crescendo as his truck rattled and rumbled down the road under the torrential downpour. It was an old, dark green truck. Scrapes and peeling paintwork marred its once shiny metallic body. The bumper was bent at an unnatural angle near the sides and the forging clanked loosely at the barrel of the wheel, creating a creaking clang of metal clashing against metal with each cycle of the wheel.

The clouds above grew closer, converging upon him like angry bees to a honeypot. A brilliant flash of lightning lit up the dark skies and thunder rumbled in the distance as a killer wind swept across the area.

His foot pressed down harder on the accelerator and he weaved in and out between cars. It was no doubt reckless, dangerous even, to drive at such a speed on a day like this but it was exhilarating.

Live fast, die young.

That was his life's motto and he was the epitome of the bold, the brash and the young. He had nothing to lose after all.

He hadn't always been like this. In fact, he had once been one of Fairy Tail's best racers but circumstances beyond his control had forced him to quit and he had ended up working as the team's mechanic. But it didn't matter how long he had been out of the game because racing was in his blood. And he was one of the very best.

His fingers gripped the steering wheel just a little bit tighter while he lost himself in the intricate dance among the traffic and soon, he found himself easing into the small road leading up to the Scarlet mansion.

Jellal had never ventured into such a glamorous district, let alone set foot on mansion grounds. It was intimidating to some degree but it was soon replaced by a growing curiosity and longing the closer he drew.

The colossal mansion was a misty white under the grey skies and flickering rain but it stood proudly under the storm, enclosed by a tall brownish-red brick wall connected by two golden gates. A long stretch of road made of the finest gravel extended from the gates towards the building, cutting through grassy lawns and rounding rose bushes and fountains.

The mansion was next to a large lake and the turbulent waters attacked the shore mercilessly. The darkness crept in from the shore but the warm glow filtering through the French windows repelled its advance. And despite the miserable weather, the soft orange light from within the mansion seemed to beckon him closer.

And then, he saw her. He couldn't see her face clearly as her dark silhouette was set against the room's bright backdrop but he knew that it was her, peering out the window shyly, one hand resting against the pale white curtains. There could be no other with her grace and beauty.

A waving figure caught his eye and Jellal saw the ginger haired man from the other day standing a little way off to his right. Loke directed the mechanic towards the mansion's garage where all of the cars were parked.

"Good day, sir. My name is Loke." He said as Jellal hopped out of his car, the bag of tools in his hand.

"Jellal."

Pointing at a white car, Loke continued. "The Lady's Alfa Romeo won't start. Please fix it. Expenses are not a problem for the Lady."

"I'm on it."

He crushed his cigarette with his boot, ignoring the disapproving stare from Loke. The bag landed with a heavy thump by his feet as Jellal lifted the hood and started his examination.

"I shall leave you to it then, sir."

Jellal waved dismissively, eyes fixated on the mechanical parts in front of him. "Gotcha, thanks."

Loke turned and left but Jellal hardly noticed. He was solely focused on his work now, the rhythmic clicking of the wrench like music to his ears. It was soothing, comfortable. But the moment he straightened up to ease the ache in his back, his thoughts immediately drifted to the redhead.

They were fleeting thoughts but they left an aching longing in his chest, one that lingered for a long while. Jellal shook his head. He shouldn't dwell on her. As much as he loved rebelling against the class system, even he couldn't ignore the fact that such a system existed and it was not his place to even approach her. She wouldn't like him anyway. He was poor, uneducated; he was beneath her. The gap between the two of them was too great.

With a long-suffering sigh, Jellal resumed his inspection of the car once again.

"Excuse me," a soft voice started behind him.

The sudden interruption startled him and Jellal shot up straight, slamming into the hood of the car. Grunting, he ducked out from underneath the hood and turned around with watery eyes, rubbing the back of his throbbing head.

The female he had been thinking about moments earlier stood before him, one hand over her mouth.

"I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry! Are you alright?"

Jellal nodded with a pained grunt, not trusting himself to answer.

"Thank goodness." A look of relief crossed her face and she smiled a radiant, albeit slightly guilty, smile. "I just wanted an update on my car, Mr…"

His throat was dry and he could feel his cheeks start to flame up. The heat was flaring up his back, creeping all the way up to the back of his neck and to the tip of his ears, but his hands were clammy and he wiped the cold sweat of his palms onto his jeans.

Gods, he had a girlfriend. What was he doing?

"Fernandes," he said, inclining his head. "Jellal Fernandes."

Jellal wanted to say more but he wasn't sure what formalities were appropriate for someone of her station. So he settled for merely saying his name and nothing more.

She walked over to him daintily and he took a step back casually. It seemed wise to maintain a certain distance from the beautiful woman.

"Well then, Mr Fernandes. Could I please have an update on my car?"

"Yeah, I mean yes, of course, Miss." His grip on the wrench tightened to the point where his knuckles were turning white. "The spark plug in the engine's blocked and the battery is low. Some wiring inside is loose as well and I might need to replace one of the cylinders. It should take around four to five days to fix."

"You sure know a lot about cars, Mr Fernandes."

"It's my job, Miss."

"Do you mind if I watch you work for a minute?"

Her sudden question threw him off.

She was a Lady of the prestigious Scarlet family. It was not appropriate for her to socialise with someone like him, someone of the lowest class in society. If she was seen with him by anyone else, it would not only tarnish her reputation, but it would also cause him a lot of problems.

But if it was her wish, then Jellal could not refuse.

"Certainly, Miss. It would be an honour."

Jellal looked away quickly and started working again.

Minutes passed, then hours, and still she stayed, watching with an incredible fascination. She was genuinely interested in his work, often asking him questions and soon, he found himself relaxing in her presence.

"So," Erza pointed at the cylinder, "that's the spark plug."

He chuckled lightly. "No, that's the cylinder. _That_ would be the spark plug."

She joined in his laughter and to him, it was the most wonderful sound in the world. His eyes softened as he watched her laugh. She was so beautiful, with silky crimson hair cascading down her shoulders in waves, chocolate brown eyes sparkling with mirth. But there was sadness in her eyes. She was trying hard to hide it but he could see it clear as day. It was a look he knew well, and one that he hated because of the memories it stirred within him.

"Mr Fernandes?"

Her laughter had subsided and he finally noticed that he was staring at her.

"Nothing, it's nothing." Jellal smiled reassuringly at her.

She was unlike the others, having willingly sought out his company with little regard as to his social status. She was a kind person, he decided. A kind and beautiful woman who deserved nothing but the best, and he hoped fervently that her future husband would treat her the way she deserved to be treated.

Jellal glanced down at his watch and balked. It was 5pm already. The race was going to start in an hour and he needed to be there to help Laxus.

"I'm sorry, Miss. I've got something to do in an hour so I'll be back tomorrow to continue my work."

Erza nodded graciously. "I understand, Mr Fernandes."

"Thanks," Jellal grinned gratefully, gathering his tools quickly.

He hesitated for a moment.

No, it wouldn't work. He couldn't ask her to come to the races with him.

"Thanks, Miss Scarlet." He repeated once more and jogged over towards his truck.

It was only then that Jellal realised that he still didn't know her name.

* * *

><p>Erza made her way back into the mansion, past the large oak doors and into her room.<p>

"There you are, dear."

Erza turned around and smiled at her grandfather.

"Grandfather, how are you today?"

Makarov hobbled over to her and clasped her hand in his, thumbs brushing over her skin fondly. "Where've you been all day?"

"I was just watching Mr Fernandes fix my car."

Makarov's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Erza, it is not appropriate for you to associate with such people. He is but a mere servant." He sighed tiredly. "You are 20 years old already, Erza. It's time you settled down with someone instead of running wild. I recall that you are going to the Orlandos' party tonight. There will be lots of potential suitors there. It will be good for you."

Her grandfather's unspoken message was clear.

_Stay away from the ruffian and find someone in the same social circle as you._

Makarov meant well but Erza hated the constraints he imposed on her life. Yet, she did not know how to break free from them because this _was _her life, this was who she was _supposed_ to be.

And so she nodded obediently, the disappointment in her eyes hidden by the red locks obscuring her face. Swallowing hard, she looked up at Makarov with a sad smile on her face.

"Of course, Grandfather."

* * *

><p>Laxus scuffed the ground with his boot. "Where is he? Come on, come on, come on."<p>

Gajeel slapped a hand on his shoulder. "He'll be here. He's always here."

"I don't think I can win with this car," Natsu moaned behind the raven.

"Can't be helped," Laxus growled. "If Gajeel wins and you lose, then we still hold the advantage. If you both lose, then next week's race is gonna be make or break."

He was interrupted by the sudden arrival of the Sabertooth team. Two cars pulled up beside them, engines revving.

"Ready to lose, Fairy Tail?"

A blond with spiky hair and a scar above his right eye stepped out of the car with a smirk and a swagger.

"Whatever helps you sleep, Sting." Laxus rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Defensive," Sting said with a snap of his fingers. He looked at the two racers. "Ah. Looks like we're up against Redfox and Dragion. Should be fun."

"I believe it will be," a baritone voice sounded from behind them all.

"Jellal!" Laxus grinned. "You made it!"

"When have I ever skipped out on you guys? Give me some credit."

Sting sauntered up to the blue haired man, drawing himself to his full height in an attempt to intimidate the man. "Well, well, if it isn't the legendary racer, Jellal Fernandes."

"I don't believe we've met," Jellal deadpanned.

He laughed. "You've been out of the game for so long that you've never heard of Sting Eucliffe?"

"Can't say I have. I don't bother learning the names of amateurs."

Sting scowled but Jellal had lost interest in the man already.

"Jellal Fernandes." A drawl sounded behind Sting. "You're Ultear's man, yeah?"

Jellal's eyes narrowed and he addressed the dark haired man behind Sting. "What's it to you?"

"Hn."

The feral smirk and gleam in the man's eyes seemed to harbour a dark secret and Jellal stiffened, jaw locking with an audible click. Turning, Jellal strode back over to his friends.

"Good luck, guys. I'm counting on you."

Natsu saluted and Gajeel waved two fingers in acknowledgement. The two of them clambered back into their cars and slowly pulled up to the starting line. The sound of a gunshot rang in the air and the four cars sped off into the distance.

Jellal stood there casually, hands deep in his pockets, a critical eye following the vehicles. He winced as Natsu drifted out wide during a turn.

"Eased off the pedal a bit too much," muttered Laxus.

The blond let out a groan and ruffled his hair irritably as Rogue overtook Natsu on another turn. Gajeel was neck to neck with Sting but with Natsu in the back, Rogue was slowly easing up alongside them to squeeze Gajeel out between the two Sabertooth cars.

Jellal looked on with a grim expression. Hazel eyes lit up briefly when he spotted a small opening that Natsu could slip through but the man failed to capitalise on the mistake and instead lost further ground. Jellal swallowed a frustrated growl, his expression grower darker. Somehow, he knew that an impending loss was inevitable.

Natsu wasn't at his best tonight. It was understandable considering he was unaccustomed to the feel of the spare car. They had never thought that he could win tonight but they had really hoped that Natsu could at least assist Gajeel in pulling off a close win, one that was looking less and less likely by the second.

"You should be the one racing." Laxus piped up suddenly.

Jellal did not answer his friend.

His racing days were long over. It was all in the past and it was a past he wanted nothing more than to forget.

"Fuck," Laxus swore loudly as Sabertooth edged out both Fairy Tail racers and roared their way to victory past the finish line. "Fuck!"

The blue haired man merely sighed, shaking his head in disappointment.

Sting cheered wildly as he stepped out from his car, hands raised high. "Hell yeah! That was too damn easy!"

Laxus snarled angrily and stomped off in the direction of his car, muttering obscenities under his breath. Gajeel slammed his palm against the wheel, incensed, and Natsu looked inconsolable. Fairy Tail had lost but the shocking thing was the way in which they had lost. They had been brushed aside, swatted away like flies. It was a crushing defeat for them.

"Give it up, you losers," Sting crowed. "That idiot is a total rookie," he pointed at Natsu, "and we all know Gray's nowhere close to our level. Redfox may provide us with a little bit of entertainment but he's burning out." He gestured at Jellal. "And you, you're just a washed out mechanic now. Fairy Tail's glory days are over! This is Sabertooth's city now!"

Laxus stopped at those words. Shaking with fury, he turned around slowly.

"What'd you say, you dog?" He hissed out venomously.

"What's the matter? You hard of hearing, old man?" Sting taunted.

Laxus charged at Sting with a roar but Jellal stepped in, grabbing him by the arms. "Cool it, man. We'll get them next time."

"Control your dog, Fernandes," Rogue said coolly.

Laxus snarled and tried to wrestle out of Jellal's grip. "I can take them, let me go, Jellal!"

Wailing sirens suddenly pierced the air and they all looked up in alarm.

"Cops are coming, let's go! Go!"

The racers sped off and Jellal bolted for Laxus' car.

"I'll drive," he shouted. "I left my truck at the garage."

Laxus nodded, still fuming at the earlier exchange.

The police car turned the corner and blue and red lights illuminated the quiet streets. Jellal stepped on the gas and shot off in the other direction.

The disappointment and anger melted away instantly. It was a glorious feeling – the acceleration, the momentum as he slid round a corner with the wind in his hair. It was all so familiar and he couldn't help but laugh as he drifted round corners effortlessly, tyres screeching, the smell of burning rubber lingering in the air.

Jellal may have given up racing but truth be told, he still loved it with all his heart.

* * *

><p>Her car was heading towards the Upper East side of the city. The family of one of Makarov's closest business partners was hosting a party and the city's rich and elite were all going to be there. It would be the perfect opportunity for her to get to better know the people from her class – heirs and heiresses, business partners, potential suitors.<p>

She had spent the past few hours being dolled up by the servants and she couldn't help but feel very self-conscious of her current appearance. She fiddled with her bracelet distractedly. She wondered what he was doing right now. Maybe he was kicking back a few beers with his friends, or possibly still at the garage fixing up some other cars.

She blushed at the thought of Jellal. He was a handsome man of course, but more than that, he interested her. He was so different from the usual men in her life. Wealth, social status and appearances meant nothing to him. In many ways, he was free_. _Free from the constraints that society imposed on her because of her social status, free from the worrisome burdens of being heiress to the largest corporation in the country, free to live life the way he wanted to.

Yes, he was poor, with no means to buy the latest fashion or to indulge in lavish luxuries but happiness was something he had in abundance. And it showed when he worked – she had seen it herself, and when he smiled that beautiful smile of his, the boyish charm shining through. Yet, he still managed to exude a powerful masculinity, with his strong build and facial tattoo. And despite his rough image, she knew that he would never hurt her. There was an air of kindness to him, a certain inexplicable gentleness in his eyes that seemed to speak volumes about his personality.

Erza looked down at her slender hands and wondered what it would feel like to have Jellal hold them in his. And then, she looked out the window, cheeks the same colour as her hair.

She was being ridiculous. She was assuming the best of him because of some stupid crush and these assumptions were probably all just a figment of her imagination. After all, what did she know about him?

Distant sirens attracted her attention and she looked up just as Loke slammed on the brakes. She was thrown forwards but the seatbelt jolted her back painfully. Her eyes widened as a customised racecar flew past them. And even though the car was only within her vision for a few seconds, Erza could clearly identify the blue blur that flashed past her.

Shocking blue hair, a striking maroon tattoo on the driver's face.

The pieces fell into place as a police car sped past her car moments later.

Jellal was a racer.

Alarm bells went off in her brain, warning her to stay away from the man. But as his car disappeared into the dark, the only thought running through her head was that she hoped Jellal could escape.

And that she would see him again tomorrow.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note:<strong>

I hope the story isn't moving too slowly. I'm not familiar with writing about romance alone, I usually mix in some angst or action which speeds things up so please bear with me because things are about to get quite interesting in a bit.

By the way, can someone tell me who the hotshots are in the Jerza fandom now? I'd haven't read any Jerza fics in a long time and I need some recommendations.

But seriously, you guys take my ANs way too seriously. Does no one remember me from 2011?


	3. Iridescent

**Iridescent**

He laughed as the wind whipped through his hair, the smell of burning tyre washing over him like the most nostalgic memory. He shifted gears easily, easing down on the pedal, hands sliding over the wheel almost fondly. The car drifted round the corner and the sirens faded altogether.

"Oh yeah," Laxus said with a grin, "you've still got it, man."

Jellal fist bumped his friend. "I'm offended that you ever doubted me in the first place."

The familiar hum of the car soothed him and he found himself relaxing. But after a short period of comfortable silence, Laxus spoke up as he stared at him thoughtfully. "You know, you should race for Fairy Tail again. Racing's in your blood."

Ignoring the comment, Jellal swung the car into their garage. "Remember to change the license plate, man. Cops are gonna be looking for you."

"Jellal…"

"It's late," Jellal clambered out of the car, eyes fixated on something in the distant, determined not to look at the man. "I'll see you tomorrow, Laxus."

Laxus caught the keys Jellal tossed at him and let out a sigh. "Yeah, got it."

Jellal looked at him. "Hey, Laxus."

"Hm?"

There was a short pause but then Jellal shook his head. "It's nothing. Catch you later."

* * *

><p>Erza took a deep breath as she stared back at her reflection. A hand ran down the length of her dress, smoothing out the faint creases as fingers lingered on the silky fabric, hesitant but gentle.<p>

She was picture perfect; her dress contrasting with her vibrant scarlet hair, diamond necklace shimmering under the bright lights, a brilliant sapphire bracelet adorning her wrist, makeup impeccable against fair skin. She looked flawless and it seemed like most people at the party agreed with her if their envious or lustful stares were anything to go by. But that knowledge failed to make her happy. She was just a doll, waiting for a man of high social status and considerable wealth to pursue her for nothing else but her looks. And it would sit alright with her family, because she had a duty to maintain their social standing, to preserve, if not increase, their fortune. Then she would stay at her husband's large estate, playing the role of the beautiful and loving trophy wife.

She loathed the idea of having to conform to such expectations, but then again she didn't have much of a choice. She couldn't fight this. This was her life. It was what was expected of a lady of high birth.

With a sigh, she turned away from the mirror and left the washroom to return back to the party. She wandered through the hallways, chandeliers glistening above her, throwing iridescent lights about the room, reflecting off the large French windows lining the hallway to mingle with the soft shadows. There was an excited buzz in the air as the party continued in full swing without her. She could see the open doors to the great hall in the distance, multi-coloured blurs whirling and twirling gracefully. Music wafted through the air, soft and lulling, and she recognised the tune; it was one she had been hearing on the radio quite a lot lately, although it was now being played as an orchestral arrangement.

Pausing for a moment, Erza looked out the window. There was now a faint drizzle and the wind was picking up. It looked like a storm was approaching. She really hoped that Jellal wasn't going to get caught up in it.

Jellal.

Her lips formed the word soundlessly. The name was unfamiliar to her but it hung at the tip of her tongue teasingly and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips.

Jellal.

It was a beautiful name.

Approaching footsteps snapped her out of her reverie and she continued on her way. Her grandfather would have noticed her absence by now. In her haste to return to the great hall, she rounded the corner too quickly and bumped into someone.

"I'm sorry," she sputtered.

"Think nothing of it," the man's low baritone voice sent chills running down her spine and she looked up almost shyly.

The man was tall and very well built and Erza's eyes widened as recognition dawned on her. He was Simon Mikazuchi, son of the wealthiest man in the city. His father's corporation was also in the steel business and was a direct competitor of her family's company.

"Ah, there you are, Erza."

"Grandfather!"

Makarov smiled kindly at her. "Oh, I see you've met Simon."

"Sir, how do you do," Simon asked with a small bow of his head.

The old man folded his hands behind his back and gestured at the female. "I'm good, dear boy. This is my granddaughter, Erza."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Scarlet," Simon said before taking her hand in his and placing a chaste kiss on it. "I have heard many wonderful things about you."

"Thank you," Erza murmured, feeling the heat slowly rise up the back of her neck.

"Excellent! Why don't you two get to know each other better," Makarov suggested, almost giddy with glee. Erza opened her mouth to protest but he gave her a little nudge from the back, imploring eyes pleading with her to do so. She swallowed her dissent and gave a small smile back, eyes softening at the sight of genuine joy blossoming on her grandfather's face.

Simon looked slightly embarrassed but he acquiesced to Makarov's request and the two of them made their way back to the hall, chatting idly.

He asked her about her day and marvelled at the splendour of the party, eyes warm, a kind smile at the corner of his lips.

She replied politely with a nod and a smile of her own and he asked her to dance. She accepted gracefully, aware of the stares pointed in her direction, scrutinising her every move; she was the heir to one of the largest companies in the world after all.

They danced with calculated movements, running through the steps of the dance easily. When the last note of the song echoed around the room, Simon bowed slightly, thanked her for the dance and excused himself, leaving her to enjoy the rest of the night with the company of the many single men in the room.

Erza watched him wander off. Simon was different from Jellal, not in a negative way, but nonetheless different. He was polite, nice, a textbook gentleman. But he lacked the silent charisma, the burning passion in his approach to life. He was, all in all, conventional.

"He's a nice lad, isn't he?"

Sighing inwardly, Erza nodded at her grandfather.

"He is, grandfather."

Makarov gave her a beaming smile.

"Good to know, my dear. Good to know."

* * *

><p>"<em>Look, you have to race in next week's race, bro. We've lost the last 2 races already and we owe Sabertooth 200 bucks."<em>

"_We'll win it back afterwards, come on Laxus."_

_Laxus groaned inwardly. "You know that ain't how it works. Fairy Tail's reputation can't take another hit, where's your sense of pride, man? Besides, we're gonna start losing customers like this."_

"_You __**know**__ why I won't race," Jellal rounded on his friend. "Just…I've got Dragion's car all fixed up so he'll be fine next week. There ain't nobody better than him and Gajeel."_

"_But you are," Laxus shot back. "You could win it by a mile. We __**need**__ this, Jellal."_

"_You really asking me? After everything?"_

_The blond sighed and shook his head. "Jellal…I know that…"_

"_Then you know why I can't," Jellal interrupted. His voice dropped to a whisper. "You know I can't."_

"_Jellal..."_

"_I can't!"_

He slammed a hand against the hood of his car in frustration, a dark scowl etched on his face.

The anger simmered in his chest, pounding and aching, and he started to work furiously, wrench in hand. His hands moved on autopilot, twisting and turning with an uncommon ferocity, but he wasn't thinking about his work.

No, his mind was somewhere far, far away, and work was the farthest thing on his mind right now.

There was no doubt that he loved to race, loved the feeling of the adrenaline rushing through his system, loved the fire running through his veins like molten gold. He loved everything about it.

But he couldn't race, not anymore.

And for his best friend to ask him to make a return when Laxus knew damn well what had happened, well it hurt like hell. He almost felt…betrayed.

"Shit," Jellal cursed, straightening up and clutching his hand as a sharp pain shot up its length.

Blood flowed freely from the deep gash across his palm and the man swore loudly. The anger boiled over and he whipped around, throwing his wrench to the floor before running his uninjured hand through his hair.

"Fuck!"

The blood was pouring from the wound and he tilted his hand so that it ran down the length of his arm to avoid spilling any on the floor. He scrabbled around in his toolbox for the first aid kit before remembering it was actually in his truck and he pulled out his keys from his pocket.

The keys jangled merrily as he fiddled with them with his other hand but in his haste, they slipped out of his grasp, falling onto the ground with a cheery clatter. He retrieved them, hands shaking slightly in panic and he jammed them into the car door's lock.

A gasp sounded behind him and Jellal turned around, injured hand held close to his chest.

"Miss Scarlet," he breathed out, clearly surprised at her presence.

Her eyes widened in horror. "You're bleeding!"

"Oh, right," he let out a nervous laugh and started searching the car's glove compartment.

There were a few pieces of gum, a packet of cigarettes and a small stack of magazines but the thing that he needed right now was the thing that was missing. He swallowed back a groan but then cool hands took his bleeding one and the man looked back to see Erza tying a light blue handkerchief around his wound gently. The blood was already seeping through the thin fabric, staining it a brilliant crimson, and he found himself apologising for the mess, mortified at the female's casual disregard of the differences between their respective social classes and confused as to the reasons why.

Her fingers lingered over his palm for the briefest of seconds and as she looked up, she caught his stunned gaze, eyes flickering hesitantly.

They were hazel, she noted, with a vague dark blue rim around it if one looked closely enough. His eyes seemed to soften, growing lighter in colour as he leaned forward ever so slightly, a hint of silvery light. The light must have been playing tricks on her for there was no way anyone could have such beautiful eyes, such kind ones. She was captivated by their warmth and for a moment she was lost in them before his low voice pulled her out of her thoughts.

"I'm so sorry about the blood, Miss Scarlet. Your handkerchief, it's…I'll get it cleaned up, I'm so sorry."

Erza didn't even register his words, her attention was focused on his face, specifically the scar cutting vertically across his right eye. It was so faint, hidden behind his maroon tattoo, that she hadn't noticed it before, but it was very long, jagged around the edges of the taut skin. Her fingers brushed against his cheek before she could stop herself and he flinched, a hand shooting up to encircle her wrist.

She watched him swallow, watched his Adam's apple bob up and down, and she asked him. "What happened?"

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, the expression on his face dimming slightly. He opened and closed his mouth, almost as if the words were choking him. After much difficulty, he answered softly. "Car accident."

There was a sense of guilt behind his tone, regret in his eyes and she nodded, opting not to question him anymore. He stared at her for a bit longer before he let her go.

"Sorry 'bout the mess, Miss Scarlet."

"It's no problem."

"The car should be fixed tomorrow," Jellal said with a smile. "I'll be back tomorrow then."

Erza returned the smile and as he bent down to retrieve his tools, she blurted out. "Are you going back to the garage?"

Jellal straightened up, pleasant surprise written all over his face. He hadn't expected her to ask, heck he hadn't expected her to even care.

"No," he answered slowly. "I was actually gonna go grab some dinner."

A quiet 'oh' was her response and perhaps he was reading too much into this but she almost sounded…disappointed. His grip tightened on his toolbox. He wanted to ask her and if it were anyone else, he would already have. He had always been a rebel, he hated conforming to everyone else's expectations and being a nobody, he could fight against the system – he had nothing to lose after all. But Jellal cared about her, he didn't want to stir up any trouble for the lady.

His eyes floated to her once again and Erza held her breath. The expression behind them was so intense, almost as if he were trying desperately to tell her something - something that couldn't be said out loud. She hesitated, struggling between giving in to her desires or to play things safe. Her grandfather was out at a business meeting so she had a bit of time to do whatever she wanted, but Loke was chauffeuring Makarov and that meant that she would have to do so on her own.

Something must have shown on her face, or perhaps Jellal just had a knack of reading people, for he suddenly spoke up.

"Would you…do you um, want to come?"

He held his breath and his heart skipped a beat when she answered.

"I'd love that."

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>Um, didn't proofread it because I haven't touched FT stuff in forever and this was sitting in my file for ages and I just couldn't be bothered to add some more so here, have this half assed update for the moment lol


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